


i sneezed on the beat and the beat got sicker

by jacquessaintlaurent



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Nothing Hurts, complete fluff, except courf's lungs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-29 23:51:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6399250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacquessaintlaurent/pseuds/jacquessaintlaurent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Fight me,” the pile of pillows said.</p>
<p>The cute doctor sighed and moved the pillows. “Maybe later,” he told Courfeyrac once the dark curls emerged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i sneezed on the beat and the beat got sicker

**Author's Note:**

> lol so i was looking at my dash and i realized…. i’m one of those authors. the ones who check in and update like every 2 years even though i’m very much alive and active. i’ve been productive and writing fic even. i just forget to post it. and then i remember and post like 3 fucking fics at a time i’m so sorry but hey you get like 3 fics.
> 
> the downside of this (other than not updating for 2 fucking years) is that there’s such a large gap between fics that when i read my old ones…. i want to fucking burn them omg. so in the interests of full disclosure i’ve orphaned a couple of my works, may orphan more in the future, may anonymously post some shit, i promise you all my fic will exist i’m just too fucking embarrassed to claim them oh my god
> 
> Also thank you again to cloudsandpassingevents. This is so long ago I don't completely remember what she did for this (was this a gift for her? was she the beta reader? we just don't know - probably both) but I'm sure she had something to do with it
> 
> Title from Beyonce’s Partition i thought it was funny
> 
> Rating for language. that's it i'm just physically incapable of not saying "fuck" once or twice
> 
> Inspired by [this cute imagine your otp tumblr post](http://turtletotem.tumblr.com/post/121393741711/ohsebs-ohsebs-ohsebs-my-nurse-just-came) and [this cute as fuck art](http://literallysunshine.tumblr.com/post/117056570561/vanyaliful-after-reading-this-i-had-to-bonus).

The door opened.

Courfeyrac froze. He had two options: one, pretend he was a normal human being and ignore the dozens of pillows he most definitely did not borrow from the other hospital beds (the pillows looked so lonely by themselves) or two, pretend to be strangled by the pillows so his cute doctor would come rescue him. Courfeyrac frowned. Usually, he would go with option two, but he was way too comfortable to fake dying. But he was also Courfeyrac, and Courfeyrac always had a third option: stage a revolution. Fight for his rights. And his (stolen) pillows.

He chose the third option.

As the footsteps approached, Courf burrowed deeper into his frankly ridiculous nest, refusing to get up, a foot of pillows piled on top of him. The footsteps paused, and he knew his cute doctor was probably standing next to the now-unrecognizably pillowed hospital bed.

“Fight me,” the pile of pillows said.

The cute doctor sighed and moved the pillows. “Maybe later,” he told Courfeyrac once the dark curls emerged.

* * *

 Courfeyrac had just gotten his pillow barricade to its previous glory from before the (rather rude) interruption when the door opened again. He groaned and poked his head up, only to see his cute doctor walk in, again, obviously judging his life choices. Courf glared and bared his teeth like the 5-year-old he probably actually was inside.

“Fight m - ” Courf sneezed and then started to cough. Uncontrollably. Damn his terrible lungs.

Cute Doctor raised his eyebrows. “I’m not going to fight you,” he said at last, when it became clear Courf wasn’t going to stop coughing soon. “Because I came by to drop off some cough drops. It looks like you’ll need them.”

Courfeyrac tried to say “fuck you,” or maybe it was “please fuck me,” but he sneezed all over his pillows.

Cute Doctor mildly put the cough drops down on the bedside table before leaving.

Courf made dying whale noises. All his chances with his cute doctor were ruined. He glared at the pillows on his bed. “Fight me,” he told the pillows. The pillows didn’t move.

It didn’t occur to him to wonder why his cute doctor didn’t ask one of the nurses to give Courf the cough drops. Doctors rarely had the time to check up on the patients more than was necessary. Courf should know. He’d asked multiple times, only to be told that Cute Doctor was too busy to help him take his medication, give his patients foot massages or belly rubs, or even to give him mouth-to-mouth in case all the coughing brought on sudden cardiac arrest.

He glared more at the pillows. They didn’t even give him the satisfaction of glaring back.

* * *

 He’d been in the hospital for, like, a month. Okay, that was an exaggeration. It was more like a day. But Courfeyrac was bored, and just because he was sick didn’t mean he was calm.

“Stylin’, whilen, livin’ it up in the city,” he warbled from his now (sadly) pillow-free hospital bed. “Got Chucks on with Saint Laurent - ” Just because he had a sore throat didn’t mean his voice was ruined. (It did mean his voice was ruined.)

“Gotta kiss myself, I’m so pretty,” he was really getting into it now. He had the head bobbing going on and even took out an air guitar, even though there was a noticeable lack of guitar in the song.

“I’m too hot!” Courf wailed, as high as he could with his attractively husky (it was actually unattractively rough) voice.

“Hot damn,” someone said. Courfeyrac shot up from the bed and looked around wildly. Cute Doctor was raising an eyebrow at him through the open door as he walked down the hallway.

Courfeyrac fell off the bed.

* * *

 

He managed to annoy the hospital into releasing him two days early. The nurse smiled hugely at him as she handed over his medication and instructions to rest well because believe her, nobody wanted him back at the hospital.

Courfeyrac pouted. “Not even Cute Doctor?” 

The nurse smirked and walked away.

“Hey!” Courf shouted indignantly after her. “That’s not an answer! Thanks for being so helpful! Can’t you as least give me his name?”

“It’s Combeferre.”

Courf whipped around. Heat flooded his face. How long had he been there? Did he hear the part about Cute Doctor?

Cute Doctor - or Combeferre - looked especially good today, even with the dark circles every doctor wore proudly and the adorably messed up hair and red lips, as if he’d been biting them. _Nervous about an operation?_ Courf wondered. Then Combeferre smiled at him.

“Fuck me,” Courfeyrac said without thinking. “Shit - I mean - wait - I meant - ”

“Fight me, I know,” Combeferre’s eyes were actually _twinkling_ , holy god, why are the Fates so cruel so me, Courf bemoaned.

“I got you a goodbye present.” Combeferre handed Courf a cup.

“Jesus, so eager to get rid of me - holy shit is this coffee.” Oh my god, Courf’s cute doctor and probably-never-going-to-be boyfriend was perfect.

Combeferre smiled. His teeth sparkled clean and white. Courf whimpered involuntarily.

“See you around, Courfeyrac.” Then he turned and left.

Courf squinted at his back. “Wait! I thought you didn’t want me back here.” Combeferre’s shoulders shook, but he ignored Courf.

Grumbling about the lack of customer service, Courfeyrac looked down at his coffee, a little thrill going through him thinking about Cute Doctor actually giving him something. Maybe he shouldn’t drink the coffee. He should save it, somehow, and keep it as a memento of the most attractive person he’d ever seen in his life. 

There were words on the side he hadn’t noticed before. Curiously, Courf lifted up the cup and read what was written there.

“Fight me. 123-456-7891. -Ferre”

Courf squeaked.

* * *

 They did fight, eventually. Horizontally. On the bed. In multiple positions.


End file.
